


Planetfall

by dirty_diana



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, POV Second Person, Space Flight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-19
Updated: 2003-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1642652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirty_diana/pseuds/dirty_diana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ground beneath her feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Planetfall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inalasahl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/gifts).



> Written for inalasahl

 

 

Glossary: Wo tingshuo = okay, hao ba = okay.  
 

* * *

  


The moment that Serenity makes planetfall, Wash longs to be in the air again. You can tell by the way that his restless hands won't stop moving, flexing around imaginary controls. Zoe catches him doing it, underneath the table at breakfast, and smiles indulgently. The black is her home too. For all of them, it is the place that they belong. 

You love planetfall, the very moment of touching down, the spinning earth that rocks Serenity as the ship makes contact with the ground. 

The sunshine this morning is beautiful, rays of light and hope that stroke your restless skin. The sky is a perfect, flawless blue. Yet you know that you are the only one who cares, or even notices. 

Almost the only one. 

You lean into the strong, warm body that has snuck up behind you as you stand at the mouth of the cargo bay, your dark hair spilling over the white cotton shirt. 

"It's a beautiful day," Simon's voice whispers into your ear. 

"It is." You close your eyes, letting the light sweep warmly across your body. "How long has it been since our last planetfall, do you think?" 

He inhales warm salt air, thinking about it. "Well, we stopped on New Amsterdam to drop off cargo. That was fifteen days ago." 

"That doesn't count," you tell him. "It was raining." 

Mouth buried in your hair, you can feel him smiling. "Planetfall doesn't count if it was raining?" 

"It shouldn't." 

"Wo tingshuo," he says, as you turn to face him. "It's been at least a month, then. Whitefall." 

"Of course." You lean your head against his shoulder, your arms circling around him. "How could I have forgotten the trip to Whitefall?" 

"I don't know. It was rather memorable." 

"Well," you say, "I suppose we're all just used to Patience shooting Mal by now." 

You kiss him, wanting to taste the smile on his lips. His mouth opens for you instinctively, gentle and welcoming, and then he freezes. 

"Inara," he whispers, a blush rising over his face. He glances around the dockyard, crowded in the bustles of midmorning business. "Not here." 

You smile, because despite the time that has scarred and weathered the outside, Simon has not changed on the inside. 

It is possible, then. The thought comforts you, and you wrap it around you like a blanket. 

"I'll see you inside, then," you say. 

He made you breakfast this morning. He knows how to cook now, no matter how spare the ingredients. He knows how to do a lot of things that he never used to. 

So do you. 

He made you breakfast this morning, he said it was your anniversary. Three years. You would lose count, except that he won't let you. He keeps track of a lot of things, and it reassures you. 

Three years. That's what he said. It was a day just like this one, sunny and certain, on a planet just like this one, with a name that you have almost forgotten. 

A good day for crime. Mal still says that, sometimes. You think that he does it to make you nervous. You think that he hasn't really forgiven you, but then you shouldn't be surprised. Mal still wears every scar that has ever been inflicted upon him, he carries them in his hands like trophies. 

"You planning to stand here all day?" The captain's voice is harsh and sudden, beside you. 

"I might," you say diffidently. 

"That's alright. Some of us got work to do," he says, and takes off, down the gangplank and through the crowded shipdocks, one hand on his pistol out of habit. 

A good day for crime.  
 

* * *

  


You remember the creaking, grinding sound of Mal closing the door behind you. River huddled immediately at the back of the room, a room that was only crawl space really, a bundle of terrified arms and hands and legs. 

"I think he's finally gone and done it," you said aloud, mostly to yourself. 

Simon had looked up at you with the faintest trace of a smile on a face. "I always thought it would happen long before now." 

Then there was silence, the two of you joking about your certain death without blinking, cool eyes and tight smiles. 

"Why don't you leave?" 

You shrugged, for lack of a real answer. "Once you've been in Serenity," you began wistfully. 

"You never leave," he whispered. "You just learn to live there. Zoe told me that, the first day I was aboard." 

"She wasn't wrong." 

"I don't know. I always thought that I would leave, eventually. That I should find a place that didn't...move about." 

"Yet," you smiled gently, "here you are." 

"Yes." He glanced back at River, eyes bright and talking to herself, then his gaze returned to you. "Here I am." He breathed in, watching you. At the time you thought you knew why, but you didn't really. "I thought it was the captain," he said. 

You thought so too, for a long time. It was the captain, except for when Mal was standing in front of you, and then it was anything else, everything else, ghosts and shadows that refused to stay still. Nobody's fault. Just the way that things were. 

"No," you told him. 

You kissed him first, because you knew that you would have to. That was okay. In the corner, River giggled, the sound breaking the two of you apart with smiles. 

When Mal opened the door, not wounded except for a scratch on his arm, the room was filled with convulsive laughter. He glared. 

"Had a good time, did you?" 

Three years, and that was the beginning for him. Not for you. For you the beginning came later, in a quiet room, dark except for candlelight, and a man with skin so soft that you were scared to mark him. A man with words and breaths so fragile, you thought that he might shatter underneath your fingers. And shatter he did, inside you, falling as if you might not catch him. 

You never knew that anyone could give away so much. That was the beginning for you.  
 

* * *

  


When you retreat from the sun, you find him in your room, pen scratching at a sheet of paper. You don't need to ask him what the notes are about. 

River. Since the day that you met her, she has been both much worse and much better. This week has mostly been worse, and Simon will never be used to it. She is a woman now, with shy eyes and a strong mouth, too beautiful to be so wrecked. 

You were jealous at first, despite yourself. He loves her. 

"You need a haircut." 

Your voice breaks his concentration. He looks up at you with distracted blue eyes, through strands of dark hair. "I don't." 

"You need a haircut," you repeat. You stand behind him, running your fingers across his head, through his hair. He sighs, leaning involuntarily into your hands. 

He worries. He worries all the time, and he won't let go. He carries the tension in his body, across his shoulders, thick taut muscle. Gently you knead the muscle, through the fabric of his shirt. 

"I'll do it," you say to him, as you watch both of your reflections in the mirror. "Later. I'd like to be able to see your eyes." 

He smiles indulgently, the way that he smiles when you say things like that. He would let you talk forever about things that make no difference to him, the shapes and colours of things. "Hao ba," he agrees. 

You sweep your skirts underneath you, as you move to sit in his lap. Your fingers gently stroke his face, and then you lean forward, your mouth melting against his. Strong arms pull you towards him. The shyness is gone now, his tongue hungry as it finds yours, making wet, restless promises. He is solid, warm, and you feel warm, inside his hands. 

You are breathless when you break away, his eyes shimmering with want as he looks at you. "Could you take me for a walk?" you ask him. 

His hands slide down your waist, cupping you gently. He smiles at you, and his smile is better than planetfall, better than sunshine. "It is a beautiful day," he says. 

End. 

 


End file.
